


henosis

by shslducktective



Series: "king and lionheart" [9]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, chaldea-verse, queen medb is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 03:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17614691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslducktective/pseuds/shslducktective
Summary: hiding a surprise beneath his king's beloved mantle, lord el-melloi ii waits for iskandar to return from his missions.





	henosis

**Author's Note:**

> i basically wrote this in one sitting since it's too cold to leave my dorm. shoutout to @discopolice for giving me the idea of medb prying into waver's sex life. with that being said, enjoy my sappy nonsense.

 It takes the man known as Lord El-Melloi II no more than a few seconds to realize that he's helpless. It's rare to see Iskandar like this, eyes aglow with the feverish determination to claim what belongs to him. For a man who prefers the act of conquering over the spoils every time, the sight of him so consumed by possessive desire is almost frightening.

 Waver longs for this nearly maddened Iskandar, needing to satisfy his king's desires more than the air he breathes.

 Their shared room is illuminated by nothing more than the dim glow of a candle, making it easy to forget the crumpled wrappers and empty video game cases lying about the floor. The strategic Caster planned for this, dimming the light rather than going through the effort to clean. He waited nearly all day, planning for future missions and lazing about with little besides his video games and cigars to keep him company. Since Rider was away, there was little to do until it came time for his return. For that, Waver prepared. 

 It's nothing much, but it's more effort than Lord El-Melloi II ever put into any sort of attempt at seduction. To start, he made the bed, which — for the former lord — is an impressive feat on its own. All else was previously unknown territory. Dressed in nothing but a thong he managed to acquire with the questionable assistance of his friend Medb, he laid himself onto the bed, his nose pointed towards the ceiling and his partner's mantle draped over his body. He waited for Iskandar's return for nearly half an hour in that position, lying on his back with his fingers curled around the mantle's fuzzy hem.

 Absorbing Iskandar's expression and stature with an unblinking gaze, Waver has no doubt that the wait was worth it.

 At first, Iskandar says nothing, striding towards the bed like a man with a sweet tooth walking past the door of his favorite pastry shop. However, it's clear that Iskandar has no intention of denying himself the pleasure before him for very long. He stops at the foot of the bed, steps out of his sandals, allows his gauntlets to fall to the floor with a clatter, and unhooks the straps of his cuirass. Once all of his top armor has been removed, the only thing left to do is drop his tassets and skirt. 

 Caster is barely able to catch a glimpse of Rider's erection before Rider sinks his right knee into the end of the mattress. His left knee follows along with his palms. Within seconds, Rider is hovering over Caster, his hands pressed into the mattress on both sides of Caster's head, and his knees and thighs straddling the sides of Caster's lower body, pulling the mantle taut against Caster to reveal his outline. 

 “You were waiting for me,” Iskandar rumbles easily, grinning with pride. He knows that, unlike the countless battles from which he has emerged triumphant, this victory is not his. Waver is always the one to claim the spoils, but that hardly stops his celebration. Perhaps it is because his partner always claims victory that Iskandar never tires of celebrating it. 

 “I was bored,” El-Melloi II retorts. His lips twitch with the hint of a smirk, but he restrains himself. “You're lucky you showed up when you did, or I would've gotten off without you.”

 “You would have taken me either way,” Rider states. “I know you, and I know that you would never be able to sit by and watch me pleasure myself without getting involved.”

 Caster draws his lips and brows together, but it fails to hide the flush on his cheeks. He looks ridiculous like that, a man in his late thirties blushing and pouting as if he were still a college boy. It only excites Rider more, but Caster has no intention of letting his lover’s boldness slide off the hook. 

 “I can leave if you just intend to make fun of me. Don't think that I can't get up just because I'm underneath you for once.”

 Iskandar chuckles. “I am well aware of your resilience, boy, but I think you would prefer to stay here.” 

 With that, Rider shifts his weight to the left and uses his right hand to caress Caster's cheek. It's heated under his touch, a touch into which Caster leans. That's all the consent Rider needs before he moves his hands to his partner's chest. The mantle covers the entirety of Caster's body, but Rider knows Caster's body as well as he knows his own. He palms the left side of his partner's chest a few times before pinching a nipple between his fingertips and the red fabric. Rider rolls the nub between his fingers, curious about the feel of the mantle against Caster's skin. Caster responds with a quiet moan, closing his eyes and tilting the back of his head against the pillow beneath it. 

 It takes El-Melloi II no more than a few seconds to lose himself in Iskandar's kiss. Iskandar is unusually rough, claiming the professor's lips with the same intensity in his eyes when he entered the room. El-Melloi II basks in it, allowing himself to be held captive by arousal and the insufficient gratification Iskandar is giving him, the tongue ravishing his mouth and the fingertips playing with his hardened nipples. Part of him wants to move his hands to run his fingers through Iskandar's beard, but he restrains himself. That will come later.

 As Rider's hands trail downwards, grazing Caster's lower abdomen with heavy fingertips, he pulls away from their kiss. A string of saliva connects them, and neither of them make any effort to part it. Rider's breath is hot against Caster's cheeks, tainted by a very faint hint of alcohol. Caster figures that he must have shared a toast with his teammates after their long day of work. Certainly, he deserved it, as he deserves this, but Caster will never admit it aloud. 

 When Iskandar's fingers finally brush against Waver's erection, it takes all of the strategist's self-control to keep himself from reflexively bucking his hips. Instead, he focuses on keeping his hips parallel with the bed, but the frenzy in Iskandar's eyes makes it all too difficult. The ancient king is still possessed with the spirit of the battlefield. His body retains that unstoppable drive and desire to push himself to the brink of exhaustion, but he no longer has an enemy to conquer. This is where Waver performs best. Unlike any enemy, Waver is unconquerable, a selfish man who always yearns for more, even after death. Of all the men in the world, Waver Velvet is the only one capable of satisfying the King of Conqueror's neverending desires.

 “Someone was looking forward to this,” Iskandar remarks casually, shifting his gaze to the obvious swell beneath his mantle. Hardly offering any warning, he curls his fingers around the professor's erection in one sudden motion. El-Melloi II gasps, and Iskandar moves his hand to stroke its length through both layers of fabric. At this point, the professor can no longer restrain himself. His hips jolt forward, and he groans in frustration. He tells himself that the anticipation must've messed with his senses.

 “F-Fuck off,” Waver hisses. “It's only because you kept me waiting.” 

 Rider responds with a chuckle and a quick peck to his partner's nose. 

 “Well, your king is here now. You have no need to wait any longer.”

 “No,” Caster insists, face reddening. “N-No. I only waited because I wanted to surprise you. That's why I'm holding back.”

 “Hoh?” 

 “Under your mantle, idiot. I'm not explaining any more than that.”

 Iskandar's eyes widen, and he nods once to confirm his understanding. Seconds later, his right hand is beneath the mantle's bottom hem as he begins to drag his fingertips along Waver's left calf. Waver's legs were already spread, leaving Iskandar's hand more than enough room to explore. The king takes his time, trailing circles up his Waver's thigh and lifting the mantle off the Waver's skin as his hand moves higher. He only stops once his fingers graze the fabric enclosing his partner's erection. Intrigued by the smooth texture, he moves his fingers towards Waver's perineum only to discover that the fabric tapers.

 Rider's discovery is followed by a pleased grin, and he tosses his mantle to the side in one fluid motion. Caster continues to clutch the top hem in both hands, leaving a small bit of the fabric to cover his chest. Rider pays it no mind, taking the chance to admire the sight of his lover in a leather thong. Under Rider's focused gaze, Caster blushes.

 “What a masterpiece you are, boy,” Rider observes, voice and expression dripping with lust. He runs the pad of his index finger along the thong's underside. “Where did you find this?”

 Caster's blush grows deeper, and he looks away. “A… A friend helped me out. It wasn't a big deal.”

 Upon hearing those words, Iskandar's face darkens.

 “I trust that I am the first to see you in this garment?”

 Waver swallows and nods. “Y-Yes. It doesn't matter, anyway. It was Medb. I'm far from her type.”

 The King of Conquerors grunts, leaning back to sit tall on his knees. “Queen Medb or not, I should like to be the only person with the honor of seeing you in this state.”

 “I've told you before,” El-Melloi II scoffs with a roll of his eyes, still refusing to make eye contact out of sheer embarrassment, “I belong to you and you alone. There's no competition for you to get so heated about.”

 With a low hum, Iskandar frowns. “Of course, I am aware. Regardless, I wish for this sight to be one that I alone can enjoy, for I am your selfish king.”

 This time, Caster chuckles. Still holding onto the hem of Rider's mantle, he sits up, shifting all of his weight to his knees, and shuffles closer to Rider. Once he's close enough to touch Rider without needing to stretch, he drops the mantle's hem from his right hand and wraps it around Rider's neck. As soon as it's clasped, he pulls away and smiles in satisfaction.

 “You are, indeed, mine… my selfish king.”

 Savoring the warm surprise on Rider's face, Caster shifts position, lowering his weight onto his rear and allowing his legs to stretch out in front of him. With his legs spread apart, he scoots even closer to Rider and motions for Rider to do the same. Rider understands, repeating the same motions and hooking his legs around Caster's rear. Like this, they are close. Like this, they can be one.

 “You must be hungry after working so hard all day,” Caster teases, running two of his fingers along the length of Rider's erection. He has no need to look down to remind himself of its ridiculous size, choosing to focus on the hunger in his lover's eyes instead. Wrapping his entire hand around Rider's girth, he lowers his voice to a trembling whisper. “I'll take care of you.”

 To keep himself from growing flustered, El-Melloi II sets the palm of his free hand against the nape of Iskandar's neck and uses that leverage to pull himself forward, pressing their lips together. At first, he has to stretch a little to keep their lips locked, but Iskandar's quickly compensates, lowering himself for the professor's comfort. Once he's at ease, El-Melloi II moves his hand to his partner's jawline, twisting the red locks of Iskandar's beard between his fingers as his other hand continues to stroke Iskandar's cock. 

 Iskandar soaks himself in Waver's attention, lowering both of his hands to tug Waver's hips forward. Their erections grind against each other, only separated by a thin layer of fabric. The sensation of his own cock rubbing against smooth leather reminds Iskandar of the thong, and he moves his hands to grip Waver's naked arse. The strategist never had much tone, but Iskandar prides himself in being able to enjoy a part of his lover that no one else is allowed to touch. That, and the way Waver smiles into their kiss when he knows that he's being savored is worth the world to the King of Conquerors.

 Eventually, the two part, and Caster is pleased to find that Rider's face is just as flushed and sweaty as he can only imagine his own to be. Still, Rider's eyes haven't lost that same post-battlefield hunger. Caster intends to change that by drawing Rider's pleasure out for as long as he can manage. He moves his hand to the tip of Rider's cock, rolling the head around in his palm and thumbing the slit. The sensation causes Rider to lurch forward and let out a rumbly moan, burying his face into the crook of Caster's neck. Caster can hardly keep himself from beaming at that reaction as he continues to polish Rider's head, a mixture of pride and arousal coursing through his body every time Rider twitches in pleasure.

 Caster is surprised when Rider suddenly hooks two fingers around the triangular piece of leather covering Caster's cock. Before Caster can protest, Rider pulls the fabric to the side and frees Caster's erection from its restraint. Rather than taking hold of Caster's erection, Rider goes for the back of Caster's hand, guiding it towards the base of their cocks and leading Caster to wrap his fingers around both of their lengths. Caster has no idea how to react, undeniably aroused by the feeling of his naked erection pressing against Rider's while also taken aback by his king's suddenness. He finds himself acutely aware of their drastic difference in sizes, Rider's full length nearly doubling in size when the two are pressed against each other. Either way, Caster had no intention of pleasuring himself, at least not focusing on his own pleasure. Tonight was supposed to be for Rider. Surely, that was what Rider wanted, as well, or so Caster thought. Now, he finds himself puzzled by his king's actions. 

 “I want us to be satisfied together,” Rider explains, moving his own hand away from Caster's hand and resting it against the small of Caster's back. His voice is hoarse from the weariness that comes with pleasure. Fortunately, Caster can tell that he's close. Otherwise, he's unsure that he would be able to hold out long enough to orgasm in time with his partner. “I want you to make us as one.”

 Waver merely nods. He wanted to focus on Iskandar, but he has no desire to disobey an order from his king. However, he knows that one of his own hands could never be enough to satisfy the both of them at once. So, he takes himself and Iskandar into both of his hands. With two palms wrapped around their cocks as snugly as could be comfortable, his fingertips barely interlock. It takes the professor a little while to get used to the movement, but he finds himself grateful for Iskandar's intervention once it starts to feel natural. 

 As soon as the strategist hastens his pace, Iskandar moans again. His panting comes hot and heavy against El-Melloi II's neck, and it provokes El-Melloi II to quicken his strokes even more. The strategist finds himself twitching into his own grip, but he holds it back. The whole point is to climax together.

 Caster nearly jolts in surprise when Rider's teeth sink into his neck. He whimpers — partially in shock, partially in pleasure — and rewards Rider with a firm squeeze. To Caster's delight, Rider doesn't stop. Instead, he continues to bite and suck at the flesh of his neck, only pausing for occasional gasps of air.

 “What's gotten into to you, Alexander?” Caster pants, arching his back in pleasure. “Y-You've never done this before.”

 Iskandar only stops for brief seconds at a time to respond. His voice is slurred by the skin against his lips, and every sentence is punctuated with a bite, but Waver can't find it in him to mind.

 “I want us to be inseparable. I want our souls to be unified.”

 By the time Iskandar is finished explaining, the professor finds himself holding back sobs of pleasure. His breath comes at a faster and faster pace, and he has to press his cheek against Iskandar's curly mess of hair to keep himself from throwing himself backwards and crying out. 

 “You know I conquered death for you,” Waver whispers hoarsely. “I would risk everything if I had to do it again. I would do it for you.”

 Rider knows that he need not reply. He need not remind Caster that no other man has ever attempted such a feat for his sake. No one else's love for the King of Conquerors has transcended death in such a way, and no else's love ever will. 

 Instead of speaking, Rider tugs his lover even closer, digging his nails into Caster's flesh as if he were trying to sink his fingers into Caster's body. Once, Iskandar avoided such intimacy, only caring for quick and meaningless sexual gratification. He feared the reminder that all flesh, savored or not, will die one day, taking its host with it. Now, he finds himself yearning to become one with the flesh that symbolizes the pursuit of neverending dream, the flesh of a man who found a way to immortalize himself for the sake of another. The flesh of the man he loves and will continue to love for all of eternity.

 At some point, Waver finds that he can no longer feel his hands, nor can he determine the point where his senses end and Iskandar's begin. His soul becomes fixed to the pleasure pooling in his lower abdomen and the heat of Iskandar's body against his own. Even those blends into one sensation, heat pooling into pleasure and pleasure pooling into heat. When he realizes that Iskandar's panting has made itself indistinguishable from his own, some part of him acknowledges that their breathing pattern has begun to match. Pleased beyond words, Waver’s body begins to twitch again. 

 “Alex… I-I can't hold back any longer.”

 “Ngh… Neither can I, boy.” Iskandar is overwhelmed by a groan of pleasure before he can continue speaking. “Go ahead.”

 Caster needs no more permission. Throwing his head backwards, he cries his lover's name and allows himself to orgasm. At the exact moment of his release, Rider's entire body tightens around him, and he feels the pulse of Rider's orgasm against his core, delayed by mere seconds.

 With labored breathing, Caster nearly falls backward in exhaustion. Before his back can hit the mattress, Rider pulls him forward, cradling him in a feeble embrace. His body begins to cool, and he becomes aware of the sweat coating every inch of his skin. He feels it on Iskandar's skin, as well, but neither of them seem to mind. 

 When Waver finally regains the strength to look into Iskandar's eyes, he's relieved to find that the madness in them is gone, at least for now. All that's left is exhaustion and the gentle tenderness that the professor has come to associate with Iskandar's afterglow. The sight of his partner's softened face makes Waver's insides melt. He smiles and closes his eyes, resting his head against Iskandar's chest. 

 The heart of the King of Conquerors beats in time with Waver's own, their synchronized rhythm flooding his senses like the swell of the tide. Waver lets himself be drowned in it.


End file.
